


Sail Away

by ellethom



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Honor-Day 1, JB Appreciation week 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 05:42:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8132519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellethom/pseuds/ellethom
Summary: Honor in all things.  Two lifetimes connected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coolhandjennie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolhandjennie/gifts).



> This fic is in two parts, as all of my fics this week will be. I post in two chapters. The first chapter is canon-ish while the second is a modern AU of sorts. The modern AU for this one is set around 1960's....think Dirty Dancing without the dancing. And the Patrick Swayze.
> 
> Gifted to coolhandjennie for being awesome and understanding my crazy music love. Also, i Kinda thought she might like this one.
> 
> Maybe

He considered her tall form, hunched over the top of the battlement along the Wall. She seemed locked in concentration and staring off at nothing. He never worried of startling her; she turned as he approached. “Ser Jaime.” she said with a soft curve her too wide mouth. 

He set down the small bag and began to empty the contents. “Dinner is served.” Dinner was fresh bread, hard cheese and apples. None of which were hearty enough for what they faced, but feeding the masses meant shortening the rations. He placed the food in front of her and they sat together on their cloaks. Jaime reached into the bag for one final item. A candle, which he angled towards her and she lit with silent acquiescence.

“It's nearly too cold to eat.” she groused, tucking into the bread she ripped it in two and handed him his share.

“Ah, but isn't it romantic?” he asked with that feral glint.

Her gruff response was expected; her shy smile was not. Even after three months of marriage, his wife still blushed. He had grabbed her hand along the trail North; had lead her into a ruined sept. An old seton said the blessings over them and their bedding had been against a half tumbled tree. It hadn't been the first time for them, but for Jaime, it was the one he would remember into his grave.

Even if that meant tomorrow. 

She hadn't started to show yet. They had been foolish in their continued relations. They both knew it could happen; though Brienne had confided in him that she didn't think she was capable. Now, three months in and he was a mass of terrified concern. “What if we ran away?” he said, looking over the crest of the great Wall. 

“From what?” she asked around a mouthful of cheese.

Jaime shrugged. “We could go to Essos. White Harbor has enough ships still. We could sail for the Free Cities. Or, the Summer Isles--”

Her face slid into a hard visage of defiance. “Do you really think those places are safe? Do you really think anywhere is safe now?” 

Jaime shook his head. “I just, what if you went, Brienne? If I asked you to leave and not fight, would you?”

She held the same look that she had when he’s sent her to the Tower Cells a lifetime ago. “You swore, before we married. You swore you would not keep me from my sword.”

Jaime nodded slowly. “And I am honoring that. But, “ he sighed long and furtively. “Brienne, I am beginning to realize that if we stay here, we are not to see the Spring.”

Brienne looked away from him; he could see the war on her face. Honor versus love. “Jaime, it's about honor. No one here wants to be here either.”

“No one else is facing The Others with a babe in them.” he fired. 

“Yes they are. We all are. IF we don't fight, we don’t win. Running is a beautiful dream, but that is all it is. I fight for us; I fight for him, for him to be able to see the Spring.”

Jaime was silent. He had expected her to refuse him. He had a bag of gold secreted away just for the plan, but he had always known it would be honor over all else. Even him. 

She placed her hand on his arm. “We will see the Spring, Jaime. Both of us, all three of us. I swear it.”

“You cannot swear such a thing.” Jaime answered. 

Brienne shook her head. “Yes, because we can fight for such a thing. We can fight and keep to each other’s backs. We can fight and we can live. And, when the Spring comes, I will take that boat with you, gladly.”

Jaime nodded, a smile erupting over his face. He tore another hunk of cheese and passed it to her. “Eat,” he said. “We will need our strength.”

The sound of the horn from startled them both, mouths still wrapped around The second blast found them both on their feet, food forgotten. At the third sounding, both tilted toward the wall to see the onslaught that had amassed from seeming thin air. “Honor.” Jaime said into the crisp and biting wind. “Honor would be me clubbing you over that thick skull of yours and sending you off on that boat.”

“I’d like to see you try.” She replied, sword drawn moving toward the winch. “And you know I’m right.”

Jaime shrugged. “Right or wrong, I would rather die knowing you were safe.” Jaime grabbed her hand to still her. “Honor.” he nodded. 

She placed her free hand on his cheek and offered him a rare smile. “Good boy,”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1960's AU

He found out from a friend of a friend of a friend who told his brother who, subsequently informed him. Truthfully, it had already been a shit year, so finding out fishwives gossip from his brother was the last thing on his list of preferred news stories.

“A girl like that, in a situation like that.” Bronn said around another gulp of his beer. “I don't envy the poor sot marrying her. “

Jaime considered how many ways he could use the cheap glass tumbler in his hand as a weapon.

 

“You hung out with her, right?” Tyrion asked over his third beer. “When we were on vacation last year. On Tarth.”

They had done far more than hanging out, but he wisely kept that to himself. His brother was great, but information was Tyrion’s currency, and anything to further push Jaime into anything would be catalogued, filed, annotated and used for later fodder. “Yeah,” was all he said instead. 

“Hung out?” Bronn asked with a smile he usually reserved for the whores in Flea Bottom. “Is that the term they’re using for it these days?”

Tyrion and Bronn laughed. Jaime did not.

Bronn, never one to let a conversation end, “I mean, I’d fuck her. That’s for sure. I mean, someone must’ve fucked her. All those legs and that ass...”

“I can't believe someone like her is getting married. Of all things. May be some hope for you yet then, big brother.” Tyrion’s eyebrows waggled over his mismatched eyes. 

Jaime slammed his drink onto the bar and glared at his brother. Tyrion didn't even flinch at the gesture, merely took a long pull from his beer and hailed the bartender for another. His beady eyes never leaving Jaime. “I love day drinking.” he said.

“You love drinking, period.” Jaime finished his whiskey and pushed away from the bar. “I gotta go.” he said. 

Tyrion studied him with a tilt of his large head. “Really? Go where. I thought we were gonna drink the afternoon away.” he pouted. “Jaime?” he called to his brother’s retreating form 

Jaime stopped at the door of the darkened Flea Bottom bar. “What?”

Tyrion raised his bottle in mock salute. “Go get her, Tiger.”

VvVvV

He ran past the pier after paying far too much for mooring fees. He slammed through the crowds of tourists and searched for the massive resort they had stayed in a year ago. Jaime had been reluctant to attend the family vacation, it was his senior year of college and he had wanted to tour exotic places, not be doused in family ‘togetherness.’

But the two weeks there had changed him and he returned to university wiser, quieter and wishing he had the courage and strength that she had accused him of hiding. 

The resort had not changed in the year they had been there. The massive resort was once the seat of the ruling Tarth clan, now the castle served as the main house with huts and cabins lining along the pristine beaches. 

He’d always recall 5 as his lucky number after that night in the vacant cabin. She had come to him and he had taken her again and again. For two weeks they had danced around each other, that last night had fed his soul. 

He slammed through the doors of the resort and rolled to a stop in front of the reception desk. The older woman behind the desk with owlish glasses smiled as he approached. “Good evening, Sir. Welcome to Evenfall Hall How--”

“Brienne Tarth.” he said. “Where is she?”

The woman seemed confused which melted into a realization across her tan face. “Oh, you--” She held up a finger and moved away from the desk. Jaime tapped his fingers on the mahogany impatiently. He looked around the large reception area as if she would appear from nowhere. 

The short woman returned and waved him to follow her. She lead him to an office in the far less traveled area of the first floor. The nameplate read Selwyn Tarth.

This could never be good. 

He was ushered into the small but tasteful room with a nautical theme and offered a seat in front of the small overrun desk. 

Selwyn Tarth was a large man, Jaime had met him last year, under far more peaceable circumstances. Once the door was closed and the receptionist had left him to his doom, the large man behind the desk cleared his throat and spoke. “Why are you here?”

Jaime felt the urge to fidget and claim innocence for everything he had ever done in his 24 years on the planet. “I need to see Brienne. Is she here?”

“Haven’t you done enough, son?” Selwyn asked gruffly. “She went through hell this last year.”

Jaime shook his head. “I didn't know. I honestly had no idea.” he shrugged.

Selwyn threw himself back into his chair. “You didn't know? You had no idea?” he parroted. “I know who you are, your family. I know what kind of man you are.”

“There are no men like me.” Jaime shrugged. “Just me.”

“Is that what wooed my daughter into your bed? Your arrogance?”

Deflated, Jaime fell back into the leather seat. “No,” 

Selwyn leaned forward. “Your father came here. He visited for the day. Took stock of the situation, tried to pay us off.”

Jaime shook his head and rubbed his face in his hands. “I didn't know.” he said again.

“Tell me something, Mr. Lannister.” Selwyn started with a bite that could have peeled skin from the younger man. “When you lay with a woman, what do you think will happen?”

Jaime found himself squirming under the older man’s scrutiny. “I know what can happen.” he said finally.

Selwyn nodded. “Then you should have known, there is no excuse in ignorance here Jaime Lannister.” Selwyn’s tense glare relaxed as he continued. “My Brinnie has found someone willing to look past what you did to her. He’s even consented to--”

“No!” Jaime pounded his fist against the arm of the chair. “That’s not fair!”

“Was it fair to take advantage of a girl? Then, leave her to face the consequences.”

“I came here as soon as I found out.” Jaime tried. 

Selwyn pointed a thick long finger at the boy across from him. “You should have been here the whole time. Hyle has been.”

Jaime leaned forward and played his last card, “I asked her to leave with me. I begged her to.” He swore. “I want to see her.”

“If you came here out of some misguided sense of honor, there is no need, Jaime. She’s found someone who will care for her in her...circumstance.”

“I came here to see her, to ….” Jaime ran his hand through his hair, uncertain of the words stuck in his throat. He wanted to see Brienne. To talk to her to apologize, to ask why she wouldn’t leave with him when he had begged her. 

But she had refused, she had left the cabin before he awoke, had left him. Alone.

Selwyn’s face broke into a smile, his demeanor shifted “I know you do.” he nodded. “But I also recall what it's like to be a 25 year old. You’re off the hook, son. Let her have her life.”

Jaime shook his head and stood. “I want to see her. Let her tell me to my face. I’m willing to fight for her, to do whatever it takes to prove that.” Jaime began to pace the office. “I ;left that morning with my family. I thought…” Jaime shrugged. “I thought she didn't feel the same way when she told me she wouldn't leave.”

Selwyn said nothing from his vantage point, and Jaime raged on. “She is the most beautiful soul I have ever met. I’ll fight, Mr. Tarth. For her, for whatever I can get. But she has to tell me herself.”

I can understand you want to do the honorable thing here, but you’re too late.”

Jaime slammed his hand into the wall, a fist shaped hole erupted around his right hand. The pain was exquisite but was nothing against the writhing, twisting pain he felt in the pit of his bowels. In his soul. “Fuck honor. We both know I have none of that.” He tried to get himself under control. No sense in being arrested. Again. “I love her.”

“You get all that, Brinnie?” Selwyn seemed to be speaking into the air. 

“Yeah, Daddy.” 

Her voice. Jaime twisted toward the voice of the person he had longed to see. “Brienne.” he breathed, for the first time in his life he was scared. Scared if this would be the last time he saw her, scared she would send him away. 

Selwyn rose from his desk and left the office with a face made of granite. He kissed his daughter on the cheek and whispered something into her ear. One last look of disdain thrown at the blond man before shutting the door behind him. “He hates me.” Jaime said for want of better words.

“He should.” Brienne nodded. 

Jaie inched closer to the blond woman. “And you, do you hate me too?”

“I’ve tried. When I thought you were trying to get out of it. I thought….”

“Why didn’t you leave with me that day?” he asked. “I woke up and you were gone. I couldn't find you anywhere.”

Brienne spread her long arms out. “This is my life, Jaime. I could no more run off into the horizon with you than you could have stayed here and not finished school.”

Jaime inched closer still, hopeful in her stoic, solid existence. “I would have come back to you.” 

She smiled then, “I tried to contact you at Casterly. How do you think your father ended up here?”

Jaime shook his head. “You would have had all my numbers and addresses had you stayed that morning and not hid from me. Or, better yet. You should have gotten on the damn boat with me.”

“That’s what my father just said.” Brienne tilted her head toward the door. “Just now as he left. You must have convinced him.”

“Have I convinced you?” he asked, finally reaching her personal space, his arms tangling around her.

“Maybe.”


End file.
